How to Fake a Love Story

1: Of Con Artists

Two Years Later

"Mr. Grayson? Ryan?"

Ryan jerked from his daze and shook his head. Focusing back to his targ-date for the night, he gave a slightly sheepish smile. "I am sorry Clara, your eyes distracted me. They really are a beautiful shade of blue. Somewhat reminds me of the sapphires my mother used to wear."

The restaurant was dimly lit, lending to the romantic atmosphere. Nearly half the tables were occupied by couples. It wasn't too expensive yet it suited his purpose.

A delicate eyebrow rose. "Somewhat?"

His smile turned more confident. "Of course, your eyes shine brighter."

Red stained her cheeks as she quickly took a sip of her wine to hide her obvious embarrassment.

On the table behind her, a pink haired girl shook from laughter.

Clara placed her wine glass on the table and leaned towards him. "You never did tell me anything about your family." Her perfectly done blonde hair curled around her cheeks.

"I..." His shoulders sagged and he closed his eyes. The pause was the key. One. Two. Thre- "There isn't much of anything to say. My mother died when I was 8 years old, due to lung cancer and my father turned cold and unemotional. I was mostly left with the nannies and he never visited me; not even on my birthday."

The pink haired girl shook again.

He resisted the urge to glare at the person sitting on the table behind his date. Even though Clara, his date, could not see his pink haired accomplice, it didn't mean he was comfortable taking any chances.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-," Her hand covered her lips as she stared at him shamefully.

Ryan smiled. "Don't worry. I don't mind sharing it with you, Clara."

Another blush stained her cheeks. Cierra was right; she loved the tragic hero types. Suddenly, Cierra sat up rigidly as she stared at something near the entrance to his side. Her dark eyes met his and a slight shake of her head gave him the clue he needed-something had happened.

But there was no way he could leave their golden goose without it giving a golden egg.

Sending a small glare towards his partner in crime-silently asking her to take care of whatever it was by herself-he turned his attention back to his date. He was tempted to look to the side and check on what Cierra had seen but he had more important matters to attend to. Clara hadn't seemed to notice the exchange and was playing with the napkin placed on the table.

Her golden dress glinted in the candlelight and he could feel his contacts irritating his eyes. He knew that his blue contact lenses were an overkill but he had to do everything in his power not to be recognised. That included wearing a light blonde colour wig.

It was all going perfectly according to his plan and there was no way he was going to let anything ruin it now.

Reaching his hand across the table, he placed it on hers, stilling her action of twisting the napkin. With another hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box.

Clara's eyes automatically widened as her free hand covered her mouth. "What is-"

"I am sorry if this is sudden Clara but I love you. So, so, so much. I know we haven't known each other for long but I don't think I can live without you. I have an estate back in France-"

"Ryan "

"-and a lot of servants. You don't have to work at the supermarket anymore and-"

"Ryan!" Her voice had a tinge of desperation in it that didn't go unnoticed by him.

He stopped.

She bit her lip. "I-I have to confess something." Under his probing look, she deflated. "I don't work at the supermarket."

Ryan frowned. "But you said that-"

"I'm not poor. I'm actually very, very rich." There were tears welling up in her eyes and Ryan could hear the hidden apology in her tone.

He feigned shock. "What? But I thought-"

"I lied. Because I didn't want anyone to love me only for my money. So I hid my identity. But... you love me. And I.. really love you too." He had her.

He pretended to hesitate. "So... does this mean-"

"Yes! I will marry you Ryan Grayson!" She nearly squealed. Ryan was thankful for the somewhat deserted restaurant. It wouldn't do to have any witnesses about. The fewer people who saw him the better it was.

A convincingly fake grin made it's way on his face. "I am probably the happiest man alive." He glanced at the table behind her. His accomplice was gone. It was time for him to scuttle too.

Looking back to his date, he gestured towards the exit near them. "Would you like to-"

"If it isn't Ryan Grayson." He froze. Even though it had been a very long time since he last heard this particular voice there was no way he could ever forget it. He felt a hand settle on his shoulder and resisted the urge to shiver.

He felt like he was about to face the devil.

Despite his misgivings, he turned to the side to look the beautiful red headed demon that was smiling sweetly at him and his da-fiancée. He started to stand up-"Myra! How good to see-"- when a sharp sting on his cheek sent him reeling back into his seat. Everyone's head swivelled in their direction. Waiters and waitresses stopped their work to see the drama.

He wondered when the restaurant had filled up since he was sure that it was nearly empty just a few minutes ago.

"Who are you?" Clara turned towards Ryan. "Darling, who is this?" There was a dangerous undertone to her voice that Ryan did not like at all.

He wasn't losing his golden goose so easily.

"A... She's a former acq-"

"Ex-wife." Myra spat out, glaring at Ryan. "He is a crook and you are better off without him."

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Cierra coming towards them in a waitress outfit, pushing a cart. Her pink hair clashed with the bright red uniform.

"Well, well, well, this has been a really great reunion but look at the time. I think it's better to wrap it up." He stood up and moved a little away from Myra. He could see Clara glancing between them with confusion etched to her features but there was nothing he could do to salvage the situation. It was best to get away before he ended up dead.

Myra took a few steps closer, her hand winding back. "Ryan, you bas-"

His faithful accomplice had reached them by then and Ryan saw the sizzler placed on cart she was pushing. In a blink of an eye, Cierra poured something on it that caused it to steam and fog up the table. Myra coughed and spluttered as she waved her hands and tried to clear the smoke.

After a few moments of confusion, the smoke had mostly dissipated. Clara frantically looked back and forth from Ryan's ex-wife, Myra to her fiancé-

"Ryan?"